The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore
by AsItBegan
Summary: "Stripping away the popular image of serene, silver-bearded wisdom, Rita Skeeter reveals the disturbed childhood, the lawless youth, the lifelong feuds and the guilty secrets Dumbledore carried to his grave." Written as if by Rita Skeeter, this is a tell-all biography of one of the most illustrious and controversial figures in the wizarding world.
1. Preface

Well, dear readers, here it is at last! The bare bones, nothing withheld, stripped down truth (or lack-there-of) of the life of Albus Dumbledore! It has been a long time coming in the wake of the elderly man's death, but I can assure you, your patience will be rewarded. Have you ever wondered what secrets were hidden by that silver gray beard? Have you ever considered what lies were distracted by those twinkling blue eyes? Ah, guess no longer! Within these pages lies the story of a man, much unlike the one you probably knew. A man filled with a hunger for power, a desire for recognition and a drive for revenge. Did the scarred childhood of an innocent boy spawn the kind, brilliant man you know or instead one wrapped in lies and deceit, covering up the secrets of his youth? Read the book and decide for yourself.

XOXO

Rita Skeeter

[*Disclaimer: The author has done an extensive amount of research and has conducted many interviews on the topic of Albus Dumbledore. However, since his entire life was not recorded word for word, she has been forced to imagine inconsequential little things like dialogue and reactions. The author has, as always, done her best to remain unbiased and impartial and thus these things should not effect your eventual conclusion.]


	2. Chapter 1

September 3rd, 1891

Mould-On-The-Would

England

"Albus! Where are you?" a sharp woman's voice demanded.

Albus sighed and closed his book. He stacked the book with the others on his carefully organized desk and stood, smoothing down his horribly uncomfortable robes. Rather reluctantly, he headed downstairs. "Yes, mother?"

"Have you seen your sister?" she asked. "We are to leave for dinner at the Walchesters' in just a few minutes." Albus's mother strode dramatically to the window. "Oh, I hope she's not out playing in the garden again. That dress of hers has had so many cleaning charms upon it that I am surprised it has any color at all! Go find her, won't you, Albus?"

"Yes, mother," Albus said. He almost went to pass the job off to Aberforth, but it would be easy enough to find his sister. Albus knew where Ariana would be. There was a little spot down over the hill in their little village of Mould-on-the-Would that was her absolute favorite. She would spend hours there at a time, sometimes playing with Aberforth, sometimes alone. Ariana never seemed bothered to be alone.

Albus headed for the door, passing his father who had just come in.

"Kendra!" his dad called. "Where's Aberforth? That boy is never ready on time, I swear..." he muttered under his breath. He looked upon Albus. "And where are you going?"

"To fetch Ariana," Albus replied.

"Where is she?"

"Out playing, probably," he said. "We are going to be leaving soon and she needs to get cleaned up," Albus added pointedly.

His father patted him on the shoulder absentmindedly. "Yes, well, she has a few minutes, let her play. Have you seen your brother?"

Albus shook his head. With a huff, his father took off in search of him. Albus winced inwardly, feeling a twinge of sympathy for Aberforth. He always seemed to bear the brunt of Percival's anger, while Ariana and Albus got off easy. Albus tried to tell his brother that if he straightened up and acted more respectably, it wouldn't be that way. That is to say, if he acted more like Albus, he wouldn't be yelled at quite so often. That is to say, he wouldn't be yelled at because he wouldn't be noticed. But no, Aberforth couldn't seem to act properly for the life of him. His shirt was always untucked and he would make Ariana laugh at the most inopportune times. No wonder their father was always scolding him.

As for Ariana, she was Percival's crown jewel. The girl could do no wrong in his eyes, no matter how dirty she got her dress, no matter what precious heirloom she accidentally destroyed whilst learning how to control her inherent magic. Even now she was right about to get away with being late.

Albus trotted down the hill, pulling up the hem of his robes to prevent them from getting grassy. Even at age ten, he cared enough about his clothes to take good care of them. The same couldn't be said for his younger siblings.

"Ariana!" he called from halfway down. "We are leaving in a few minutes. Come get ready."

"But I am growing a garden!" she said cheerfully. "Look, I just started."

Three daisies poked out of the green grass.

"You can finish when we come back. Come on, Ariana," Albus said commandingly.

"Just a few more, Al!" she said, bubbling with excitement. "Please?" Ariana whined.

"Aria-"

"Pleeeasseeee," she whined, louder.

Albus sighed. "Fine. Two minutes. We will be waiting at the house."

"Okay!" Ariana replied.

With a disapproving shake of the head, Albus trudged back up the hill. Why couldn't his siblings be more like he? Albus tried so hard to shape them into what he wanted them to be, but they just wouldn't listen. Alas, perhaps in a year or two.

Albus closed the door quietly, slipping into the house without a sound.

"Where's Ariana?" Kendra demanded.

"She will be along in a moment," Albus replied. "You know how hard it is to get her to stop playing."

Albus's mother wrung her hands. "Yes, I really wish she would just play inside. It makes it so much easier to keep an eye on her."

Albus nodded quietly. It was not his place to disagree with his mother, even though he thought she was better off playing outside where he wasn't forced to make sure she didn't blow up the house.

"Come, Albus, your brother and father are waiting out front. Hopefully Ariana will come along quickly so we can get her cleaned up."

Albus trailed after his mother to the front of the house where a fancy buggy with two harnessed horses sat waiting. Percival was fussing over Aberforth's appearance, brushing dirt off of his robes and scolding him for not washing his hair that morning. In other words, everything was going as normal.

That was until the screaming started.

-[]-

"Ariana!" Albus's father sobbed, cradling the girl's limp figure in his arms. "No- please, Ariana..."

Albus skidded to a stop, almost tumbling the rest of the way down the hill and into the field of daisies, now dead and dry. Ariana's brown hair partially obscured her unresponsive face, so serene and calm as Albus stared upon her in shock.

With a shout, Aberforth came barreling down the hill at a run, ending with a slide through the grass on his knees to stop at Ariana's side. "Ariana?" he asked in a small voice. At only a year older, she and Aberforth were very close.

"What happened?" Kendra asked, picking her way down the hill with as much speed as she could, given her age and cumbersome garments. Her voice shook, trembling with worry and horror.

"The muggles," Albus's father Percival gulped. "They attacked her." His eyes glistened with tears that were most unlike him. He was known for his dignity, pride and, above all, backbone. Percival looked up, eyes pained but flickering with anger. "They attacked her!" he repeated. "All she was doing was growing a few flowers and they attacked her!"

Albus noted with an odd sort of detachment that his father was near hysterics. Kendra joined in, crying and dabbing her eyes ineffectively with a handkerchief. Aberforth was stroking her hand gently, whispering to her.

"Is she dead?" Albus asked, as if in a daze.

Everyone looked at him. His father blinked and checked her pulse. "No- no, she's not dead. She's not dead. We have to get her back to the house."

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her small form back up the hill. Albus followed with the others, mind blank but for thoughts of Ariana. He glanced back over his shoulder. The daisies were gone.

* * *

Ariana died on the way up the hill. However, with some quick wandwork and healing spells, Kendra had managed to revive her before her body fully shut down. Albus watched his mother work, handing her the herbs and towels she needed for the healing magic. By the time she was finished, Ariana lay asleep, battered and bruised, but alive.

The healing had taken more out of Kendra than she was willing to admit.

"Sit down, dear, please," Percival said offering her a chair. She was too tired and weak to protest. "You have saved her. Our Ariana will be just fine."

"I will send a message to the Walchesters and tell them we are not coming," Albus offered.

Percival hardly seemed to hear. "Yes, Albus, do that."

Albus walked from the room, trying to fight the jealousy and resentment welling up inside of him. Sure, he was concerned for his sister's well being, but she brought it upon herself. She should have checked her magic, or not been practicing it where the muggles could have seen. And now, their parents weren't even mad at her for ignoring their rules about hiding magic, but instead they were fawning over her, ignoring Albus and Aberforth. Aberforth didn't seem to mind, but Albus did. Oh, Albus did.

Albus cared about his sister more than almost anything; anything except the system of right and wrong. Even at such a young age, he was well acquainted with the topic. Both Ariana and the muggles were wrong in what they had done, but so were Percival and Kendra in failing to acknowledge Ariana's part in it. Why did she get so much attention for doing something she should not have when Albus got nothing for always doing right? That wasn't fair.

Filled with bitterness, Albus continued on his way to call off the dinner party. He could not help but think, yet again, that if only his siblings were more like he, this would not have happened. None of this would have happened.

For, unlike his brother and sister, Albus strived to be perfect.

* * *

AN: Hi there! This is a story for a competition in which I'm competing and there are a certain number of chapters that I'm allowed to post each round. Therefore, posting will be erratic and the story may skip large intervals of time since I want to get to the interesting events before the competition closes. Please bear with me! Thanks, and if you don't mind dropping a review, that'd be great!


	3. Chapter 2

November 12, 1891

Mould-On-The-Would

England

As the candle flickered out and night fell, Albus reseted his head on his arms. It was his turn to do vigil for Ariana after another "episode" of hers that morning. It had been two months since the attack and ever since, Ariana's magic had become...unpredictable. Dangerous, even. This time, it was only a curio cabinet sliced in half, but Albus couldn't help but imagine a person standing there in its place.

His heavy eyelids drifted shut, despite the fact that he was nervous to be alone in a room with Ariana. He hoped that she'd used up her store of magical energy for a while. HIs parents speculated that she was traumatized to release magic in the ways that a normal child would, so instead she bottled it up. The problem was she could not control when it was released. Albus wondered bitterly why his parents weren't more worried for the family's safety. Shouldn't Ariana be sent away for help? Who could tell if tomorrow she'd lose control and slice through _someone_ instead of a piece of furniture.

Albus's worries were overcome by exhaustion. He had spent all day doing the chores that his mother had neglected in favor of doting on Ariana. Albus had tried to get Aberforth to help, but when that boy wanted to disappear, he did. Albus's eyes closed and he was out.

"Albus," a stiff voice said some time later, shaking him awake. "Albus, get up."

Albus sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to focus. It was deep night now, the pitch black oozing through the windows and seeping into the room. "Why?"

"We are going," Percival said with a hard glint in his eye. "I cannot watch your sister like this for any longer without doing something about it."

That got Albus's attention. "Where are we going? Should I wake Aberforth?"

His father looked down at him. "Aberforth is too young. You... you are old enough."

Percival turned and strode from the room. Albus scrambled up, grabbing his wand and cloak and hurrying after his father. "But where are we going?"

"To find the muggles who attacked her."

Albus's stomach twisted. "But... Why do I have to come?"

His father stopped in his tracks and turned to him. "Eventually, you will be the head of this family. It will be your job to protect them, Albus. Protect them at all costs. You have to know what that entails. A lesson, you can call it."

Albus knew all about his father's lessons. He trailed out the door after him feeling anything but excited. They walked for what seemed like an eternity, down over the hill and then through the muggle community. They might have looked conspicuous if it had been light out, but in the dark, they blended right in.

"There," Percival said, pointing. "Three brothers. They live there. Ages thirteen, fourteen and sixteen. They are the ones who attacked her."

"How do you know?"

In the moonlight, Albus's father's face had a threatening profile. His jaw was set in a stern line and his eyes glinted with hard anger. In short, he was not to be messed around with. Albus almost felt bad for the muggles. He had no idea what his father would do - he'd never seen him like this.

"I've done my research," Percival muttered. "Come."

"Are we going to break in?" Albus asked nervously.

"Yes," he replied. "You simply watch all of this. I do not want you to get in trouble. If anyone asks, you were not here at all, understand? Answer no questions about this night."

Albus's palms were beginning to sweat. "Why? What are you going to do?"

His father didn't answer. Instead, he stepped up to the side window of a low brick house. He lit his wand and revealed three sleeping figures inside. Albus's throat clenched. Percival unlocked the window with a spell and pushed it open silently. He looked back at Albus. "Stay here."

That wasn't a hard command to follow. Percival slipped into the room, wand still glowing enough to see by. Albus watched as he moved to the door, locked it, and cast a silencing charm around the room.

He felt sick.

Percival shot a large, floating ball of light up to the ceiling, to hang there and illuminate the room. With a clap, he woke up all three groggy boys. Albus couldn't hear what was being said, since he was outside of the charm, but it was obvious that the boys were scared out of their wits. It seemed like Percival was refreshing their memories of the night they'd attacked his daughter.

Percival took a step forward. The boys scrambled out of bed and took a step back. Albus's father smiled in cruel amusement. He fired a spell.

And that's when the silent screaming started.

Albus was horrified. "Stop!" he shouted. Percival didn't respond. Albus realized that with the silencing charm, his father couldn't hear him. All shouting served to do was wake the neighbors.

But Albus couldn't watch this. He turned and ran from the house, sprinting as fast as he could through the streets back towards home. His cloak whipped around his legs and he tripped, faceplanting onto the cobblestone street. It didn't matter. Albus got up, ignoring the scrapes and dirt and kept on running.

Right then, he vowed never to be like his father. He vowed not to let anyone, not even his family, change who he was deep inside. He was going to follow himself, and only himself. He would protect his family, but that wasn't the way to go about it. Albus would sooner die than cause that kind of hurt upon anybody.

He didn't slow until he reached his front door.

* * *

**PERCIVAL DUMBLEDORE ARRESTED FOR ATTACK ON THREE YOUNG MUGGLES**

**By Harriet Gracenet**

_Yesterday, on November 12th, Percival Dumbledore was caught by aurors while torturing three young muggle boys. Their muggle neighbors were apparently woken by some noise outside and alerted muggle police. Aurors arrived on scene almost immediately, and the boys are expected to recover fully. Dumbledore, on the other hand, faces some serious charges of magical felony with the Ministry. It is rumored that he used an unforgivable curse on the muggles. The trial will be held in two weeks time, and he shall be sentenced at that point. It is, as of yet, unclear what motivated such a vicious crime, but authorities are presently looking into it. There is speculation that Dumbledore simply went mad, finally releasing his long held hate of muggles and allowing it to manifest itself in the form of cruel torture. Others think that he finally made a move on pureblood supremacy. Officially, the motive is unknown. Rest assured that if any information should come through, it will appear here as quickly as possible. _

Albus flipped the page of the paper.

**Wizarding World Gone Mad?**

**By Bilius Wolfrang**

_Or is it just Percival Dumbledore? If all wizards acted on their views on pureblood supremacy or lack thereof, we would have quite a situation on our hands. This did not seem to stop Dumbledore from taking out his anger on three defenseless muggles. Chances are the muggles did not even know why they were being so brutally tortured - simply for not having magical powers. Hopefully, the Wizengamot will sort out Dumbledore's punishment and give him something deserving. Perhaps they should subject him to the same fate that he forced the muggles into. Thoughts? Feel free to write in with any opinions on what exactly they should do to Dumbledore._

There was an article right next to it, taking another side.

**A Move in Pureblood Supremacy**

**By Olga Umbridge**

_As no other motive has been found for Percival Dumbledore's recent attack on three muggles, it seems that it must fall on his views on pureblood supremacy. Finally, after all these years of talk, someone has decided to act upon the ideal the muggles are the inferior race. Perhaps Dumbledore went about it in the wrong way - a petition would have been much nicer - but nevertheless, he has managed to bring to light the values that many people harbor, yet are too afraid to speak of. Hopefully, now with the subject in the spotlight, more people will come forward and join the cause. The wizarding community can finally do what they should have done years ago and assert that they are the superior race. Agree? Find a petition in the back of this issue and owl it in for your name to be added to the list._

Albus closed the paper as a knock sounded on the front door. They had come to ask questions. He swallowed hard.


	4. Chapter 3

November 13th, 1891

Mould-On-The-Would

England

"Do you know where your father went last night?" the questioner asked. He was a tall man with thinning blonde hair and a stern, serious face. Albus forced himself not to fidget.

"No," he lied.

"Did you hear him leave?"

"No."

"Did he speak with you beforehand? Tell you anything about where or why he was going?" the interrogator continued.

Albus felt claustrophobic even in the spacious, empty room. Every breath seemed labored, yet he kept an appearance of calm. Albus was practicing to become an expert liar, even at such a young age. "No," he replied. Albus let a hint of worry into his voice, trying to sound like the confused and ignorant child he was supposed to be. "Why? Why do you want to know about my father?"

The man considered him over horn-rimmed glasses. "You do not know what he has done?"

Albus shook his head.

"Your father attacked three muggle boys. He broke the law. Do you have any idea why he would do this?"

"No." Answering with the truth would mean Ariana would be sent away, Albus's mother had told him. They had to lie, for her. All of this for her. Even though it was _because _of her.

"Your father never expressed any violent tendencies?"

Albus managed not to flinch. "No."

The man nodded and marked something down on a notepad. "Very well, thank you for being honest. Are your brother and sister available for questioning?"  
Albus didn't need to be told that it wasn't a good idea for either of them to be put on the spot. Aberforth was a little too candid and Ariana was... well, Ariana. "I think my sister's sleeping and my brother is pretty shaken up. Both of them are probably too young to understand what you are asking anyway," he said.

The questioner's eyes narrowed slightly. "I generally like to talk to every member of the family to make sure their stories match up. Sometimes the young ones are the most honest."

Albus stood. "Please, sir. They are confused as it is. I'd... well, if you understand, I would rather like to not have to explain to them exactly what happened." Albus laid it on thick. He looked at the older man pleadingly, trying his best to sound convincing. He was rather good at it.

After a hesitation, the man softened. "Alright. But if they mention anything, or think of anything, be sure to report it."

Albus nodded quickly. "I will, sir!" he chirped obediently.

He moved for the door, passing into they foyer. Kendra stood up from her chair, looking anxious. The official nodded to her. "Best wishes, ma'm. The trial will take place on November 27th."

Kendra nodded. "Thank you. Here, let me see you out..."

By the time she had returned, Albus had composed himself. His hands had stopped shaking from the concentration and stress of lying.

"What did he ask?" his mother inquired.

"Everything we expected him to," Albus replied. "I convinced him not to talk to Aberforth and Ariana."

Kendra's eyes watered as she smiled, overwhelmed with emotion. "Oh, Albus, you are such a good son. With your father gone..." she choked up.

"Don't worry, mother," Albus replied comfortingly. "It will be fine."

* * *

November 28th, 1891

Mould-On-The-Would

England

Everything was regrettably not fine. Kendra sat at the kitchen table, eyes red and puffy from the tears. When she had returned the night before, it was easy enough to see that things hadn't gone very well. Albus's mother had been in no state to talk then, but now Albus broached the topic.

"What did they decide?" he asked.

Kendra dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. "He was sentenced," her voice broke, "to life in Azkaban."

This news brought on a whole new round of tears. Albus took the news with a cold detachment. After seeing his father that night... Well, he couldn't help but wonder whether or not he deserved it. Albus's mother took his lack of emotion differently. She smiled fondly.

"Oh, bless you, you are too young to understand. In time, Albus..." she trailed off. "Go get your brother and sister and tell them to pack."

"Pack?" Albus asked.

Kendra nodded. "We're moving. My sister has found us a place nice and far away. Hopefully a good ways from this scandal."

Albus's heart dropped. He was supposed to start school the next year. "I'll still be going to Hogwarts, right?"

She nodded absently. "Oh, yes. Now go pack."

Albus headed up the stairs to find his brother and sister. He found Aberforth in his room, staring out the window. "We are moving, Aberforth. Mother wants you to pack."

Aberforth didn't reply for a moment. "This is because of Ariana, isn't it?"

Albus hesitated.

His brother turned around, a look in his eyes that went far past his meager years. "You blame her, don't you?"

Slowly, Albus nodded.

"It's not her fault!" Aberforth insisted. "She didn't ask for this!"

"If she had listened to me when I told her to come inside-"

"She's a child, Albus!"

"So are you!" Albus shouted in return.

Aberforth quieted and stared at his brother. Albus knew that was almost unfair to say, what with he himself being only ten years old, but he felt far more mature than his years. He had always felt that way. Reading at age five, writing not long after. He had always been ahead of the other kids. Always been superior. He may be young in years, but he was much wiser than he looked.

"It's not her fault," Aberforth said again, quieter. "She's really sad about it. About everything."

Albus didn't reply. He couldn't help but think that she was responsible for this entire situation. For making them move. For putting their father in prison. For ruining their lives. For putting the family in danger. For hurting those muggles, however inadvertently.

"Fine, then. _You_ go help her pack. I will be in my room."

Aberforth didn't reply as Albus walked from the room to his own. He shut the door with a bang and sank to the floor, dropping his head in his hands. He blamed everyone right then. He blamed Ariana for starting this whole thing, his father for making it worse. He blamed Aberforth for defending them, and his mother for being too weak to do anything to help them. He blamed himself for not forcing Ariana back to the house and blamed the muggles for hurting her like they did.

Letting all his bottled up emotions loose, Albus sobbed unashamedly. He hated his life. He hated this scandal. He hated how everyone looked at him suspiciously when he'd walk to the store for milk. Albus hated his family, and himself. Perhaps by moving he could start over. Yes, a clean slate. That sounded nice.

Standing, Albus pulled his trunk out from his closet and began throwing clothes in haphazardly, tears still streaming down his face. When he'd emptied a whole drawer, he stopped and looked at the mess. This wasn't him. Albus was neat, orderly. He would never shove clothes in a trunk with such chaos. What was he doing?

Almost in a daze, Albus took each piece of clothing out, folded it, and stacked it on the bed. When he had several neat rows, he moved them back to the trunk, placing them in the most strategic pattern so as to fit as many clothes as he could. This was Albus. Organized, proper, and most importantly - in control. Albus was in control. He thought back to that vow he made on the night of his father's crime.

"I am in control," Albus muttered to himself. He repeated, over and over, "I am in control."

Albus started on the next drawer, keeping everything carefully folded. After finishing with his clothes, Albus moved on to other things. He wrapped and packed trinkets and baubles until he came to something strikingly familiar, yet oddly distant. It was a pair of cufflinks, large, gaudy, and engraved with the family crest. Percival had given them to Albus, saying that they had been passed down for five generations to the eldest son. It was supposed to be an honor to wear them and represent the family. Albus turned them over in his hand. He didn't feel honored.

Looking from the cufflinks to the trunk and back, Albus frowned. He could take them. They were small, meaning they took up hardly any space. He could give them Aberforth, despite the breaking of tradition. Yet somehow, Albus didn't feel right about doing that. He felt betrayed by his father, who trusted with so much. With far too much. Why had he taken him that night, scarred him for life? To prove a point about sticking up for family. If that was what family meant to the Dumbledore's, Albus wasn't having it. He casually tossed the links into the garbage, turning away without a second thought.

_He _was in control now.


	5. Chapter 4

August 30th, 1892

Godric's Hollow

England

Albus stared out the window at the rest of the little village of Godric's Hollow. He saw his neighbor, Bathilda Bagshot, out weeding in her garden, and a passing couple walking down the sidewalk holding hands. He smiled. Albus wasn't going to miss this place. This was his jail, and now, at Hogwarts, he was finally going to be freed.

Albus shoved the rest of his things in his trunk and latched the lid. He'd gone to Diagon Alley the day before to get his wand, robes, books and other various items. Of course, he had gone alone because his mother refused to leave Ariana alone for even an hour. He was eleven years old and wandering Diagon Alley alone. Albus had gotten lost more than once, but naturally no one noticed or cared. But he wasn't bitter. No, Albus definitely wasn't bitter that his mother had no time for him...

With a sigh, he lugged his trunk down the stairs to the landing by the front door. He patted his pockets. Albus had his wand, his bit of money, his train ticket. He was ready.

"Have everything, Albus?" Kendra asked, wandering in from another room. The past months had been hard on her. She was pale, thin and sickly looking. Albus felt bad for her, but at the same time resented her for not pulling herself together for them.

"Yes, mother," he replied stiffly.

She smiled at him. Albus managed a small smile in return.

"I'll be going now..." he said, gesturing to the door.

"What about saying goodbye to your brother and sister?" his mother asked.

"Oh, right," Albus muttered.

"Aberforth! Ariana!" Kendra called. In a few seconds, Aberforth appeared, dragging a decidedly listless Ariana by the hand. "Albus is leaving for Hogwarts."

"Goodbye, Albus," Aberforth said sincerely. He tugged on Ariana's hand. "Ariana?"  
"Bye," she said.

Albus nodded to the two of them. "Goodbye. Goodbye, mother."

Kendra stepped forward and enveloped him in a hug. When she pulled away, Albus saw a glistening of tears in her eyes. He pretended that he hadn't. With a final nod, he pulled his trunk out the door, heading for the carriage that would take him to the train station. From there, he would take the train far away to a new life.

* * *

Professor Brandey surveyed the first years. "When your name is called, you will advance to the platform where the sorting hat will be placed on your head. You are all to be on your best behavior. Understood?" He stood stiffly, his chin thrust into the air. He had thinning white hair and spectacles, but they managed to make him look wise and strict rather than grandfatherly.

No one replied, but it was clear that they had gotten the message. Brandey nodded. "Follow me, then."

Albus went with his class into the Great Hall and was similarly amazed when faced with the huge ceiling that sparkled with stars. He couldn't hold back a smile. He felt so at home, which was absurd in such a foreign castle.

They lined up across the front of the Great Hall, in front of the table lined with teachers. On a stool sat a very gently worn pointed leather hat; the Sorting Hat, he assumed. Professor Brandey hobbled to the front and withdrew a large scroll. He unfurled it dramatically, looking out over the hall of students with a critical eye, making sure everyone quieted.

"When I call your name, come forth," he reiterated. "Alverias, Jeremiah."

A small boy stepped forward and took a tentative seat on the stool. Brandey set the hat on his head and stepped back. After a moment's deliberation, it declared, "Hufflepuff!"

The respective table cheered and the boy went to join them with a nervous smile.

"Calder, Heidi."

"Ravenclaw!"

The girl hopped off of the stool and all but skipped to her table. Albus's palms began to sweat. The students cheered again and a pleasant wave of conversation spread throughout the hall.

"Doge, Elphias."

No one paid attention to Elphias as he went up to the stool, which was probably a good thing as he was covered in terrible looking marks from his brush with dragon pox. He seemed a bit green to Albus as he passed, but whether that was from the dragon pox or the nervousness, he wasn't sure.

"Gryffindor!"

"Dumbledore, Albus," Brandey called over the thrum of chatter.

As if someone had flipped a switch, everyone quieted. The students stared for a moment as Albus shuffled forward, no longer quite so sure of himself. After a brief moment of silence, the faint drone of whispers drifted up to the front. Albus's stomach clenched. _What were they saying about him? _What a way to begin his "fresh start". Albus took a nervous seat on the stool and felt the hat come down on his head.

The gravelly voice of the hat rang in his ear. _Well, well. Hm... You are an interesting one, boy. There's Slytherin cunning in you, oh yes. Well buried, sure, but there nonetheless. And yet, you are brilliant enough for Ravenclaw to call you one of their own. But there is still loyalty and kindness of a Hufflepuff in you. Gryffindor bravery, too... You really have it all, boy. You could go anywhere._

Albus's mind raced. He could go anywhere. This was his chance. This was his chance to stand up to those controlling his life, to take control himself-

_Take control, you say? Well, that's quite a Gryffindor thought. But Slytherin, too..._

Albus waited.

"Gryffindor!" the hat announced after deliberation.

The decision did nothing to ease Albus's nervousness. He slid off of the stool and headed for his table. No one clapped, no one cheered. The hall was eerily silent. As Albus took what seemed like an eternity to walk to his seat, he became vaguely aware of another name being called.

Albus took a seat at the Gryffindor table under many watchful eyes. He stild onto the bench next to Elphias, whom everyone was making an effort to avoid. No one spoke to either of them, or shook their hands.

In the background sounded, "Hufflepuff!"

Albus stared down at his plate, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Still, none of the people around him spoke. In fact, no one said anything until well after the food had appeared.

"You, Dumbledore," one of the older kids said. Albus looked up. "How come you are not in Slytherin? Isn't your family all 'pureblood supremecy'?"

"No, we-"

"No?"

Albus repeated tiredly, "No."

"Then why did your father attack those muggles?" someone else spoke up.

Albus stayed silent. He knew that by not answering, he would appear to be conceding, but he couldn't very well spill out Ariana's secret after keeping it for so long.

"Should've been a Slytherin," the first boy repeated.

Albus clenched his fists under the table but didn't say anything.

"So if one of us gets on your nerves, you going to attack us too?" he asked. "Follow in your father's footsteps?"

"No," Albus said through clenched teeth. "I'm not like that!"

The boy scoffed. "Yeah, I bet that's what your father told the prison guards."

It took everything Albus had to keep from leaping at the boy. His fists itched to connect with the side of his face, but he was restrained by a hand on his arm.

"Leave him alone," Elphias spoke up.

Everyone around the table quieted and observed the pair.

"Well, we have ourselves a real Gryffindor, it seems," a young girl said from a few seats down. She smiled lightly. "Congratulations."

After a tense moment of silence, the boys went back to their individual conversations and left Elphias and Albus alone. He released Albus's arm.

"Thanks," Albus muttered.

"Of course," he replied. "I don't believe you hate muggles. Do you?"

Albus shook his head. He ate a few bits of his meal in silence. "Maybe we can be friends?" he asked finally.

Elphias smiled, stretching his pockmarked skin. "You're not put off by my appearance?"

"It isn't contagious, is it?" Albus asked.

"No."

"Then what is the difference?" he replied.

Elphias was still smiling. "Then I would love to be friends," he said, offering his hand. "I'm Elphias."

Albus accepted the handshake. "Albus Dumbledore."


	6. Chapter 5: A Note from Rita

I hate to interrupt your reading, my friends, but it's important to note that this was not the only time Albus was accused of supporting pureblood supremacy. While he initially denied such claims, his sincerity was indeed questionable. As you have seen from early on, Albus was no amateur liar. In fact, he was quite practiced at lying to his mother, father, and even the authorities. While I have interviewed many of Albus's classmates as to his response, it is no longer a certainty that Albus's word was honest. Later on, he stopped denying it entirely, according to them. Just something to think about. Most of Albus's Hogwarts time was composed of him off by himself with his one and only friend Elphias - outcasts together. This wouldn't be the first bond he'd form with an unaccepted male, but we'll come back to that later. For now, we'll highlight a few points of Albus's Hogwarts years, but I won't bore you with the mundane details.

After all, I'm sure you readers want to get to the juicy stuff as much as I do.

Well, I'll stop interrupting and let you read. Have you formed your opinion of Albus yet? No? Well you will. That, I promise you.

Kisses,

Rita


	7. Chapter 6

May 23rd, 1899

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Location unknown

Albus walked out of the castle feeling immensely satisfied with himself. He had been so glad to have Griselda Marchbanks for his Charms and Transfiguration NEWT exams and was quite certain that he'd amazed her with his prepared tricks. For anyone else less easily impressed, he might not have gotten such an enthusiastic reaction. Albus grinned to himself; he'd made sure that he would stick out in her mind. Marchbanks would probably go around telling people about him and his impressive magic now.

"Elphias!" Albus called, waving his friend over. The smaller boy came stumbling over. "Walk to the Potions exam with me?"

"Of course," his friend replied. "How were your exams so far?"

Albus shrugged. "Alright." It wouldn't do to appear as anything but humble. "I'm hoping I did not do as badly as it seemed."

"Oh, I'm sure you didn't," Elphias assured him. "Myself on the other hand..."

Albus clapped him on the shoulder. "You are brighter than you give yourself credit for, my friend."

Elphias muttered something unintelligible. The day was gorgeous - clear blue skies, a gentle breeze and a comfortable but not overly hot sun. Bird chittered in the trees and creatures screamed in the forbidden forest. All was as it was supposed to be.

Unfortunately, the beautiful day was ruined for Albus. He would be going home the next day for the last time. His Hogwarts career was over. There was such a sense of striking loss that Albus could've cried, if he had been the crying type. This was his sanctuary, his second life, his real home. And now... back to his utterly ordinary family. Well perhaps "ordinary" wouldn't be quite the word for it, but regardless Albus wanted something great. He wanted to see the world, to be famous - not to take care of his sister and mother for the rest of his life.

"Elphias, what do you say we go on a World Tour?" Albus proposed with sudden energy. "You know, take a year, see the world... Everybody is doing it these days."

Elphias scratched his neck. "I would love to Albus, but the cost..."

"I have it covered, my friend!" Albus promised, a plan forming in his mind. "I have those prize winnings from the Barnabas Finkley Prize for Exceptional Spell-Casting," he said, admiring how the name rolled off the tongue. "And Janice Wright is always offering to sponsor me, I could take her up on it. But I wouldn't want to go alone. You could use the prize money."

"Janice Wright?" Elphias repeated, confused.

"From the Wizengamot," Albus said with a hint of pride. He had been chosen as the British Youth Representative to the Wizengamot about a year before, but still liked to slip it into conversation. "What do you say?"

Elphias gave him a sideways glance, looking nervous. "Are you sure?"

"Of course!"

"Then yes! I mean, if you are certain," he added worriedly.

"I am," Albus assured him. "Come on, let's go knock out this last test and then we can get to planning."

At last Albus had something to look forward to. And he had successfully put off his return home for any length of time for another year. They wandered back into the castle for their Potions NEWT. Albus wasn't nervous. Why should he be? Potions came as naturally to him as any other class did. And the whole school knew how easily other magics came to him. They had long ago ceased whispering about Percival Dumbledore, at least where Albus could hear. He had proved early on that his magic was far superior to others his age. At that rate, they weren't about to take any chances. If Albus turned out to be like his father, he could inflict quite a bit of damage.

As the years went on, however, Albus's reputation grew to that of a respected, intelligent student. He always seemed so kind and patient, never missing a chance to help out a fellow student. Or to show his brilliance. In time, the rumors began to fade dramatically, even though the general population never quite accepted Albus as a friend. He was always set apart. If not by pre-formed notions, then by his brilliance.  
"Dumbledore, Albus," Albus introduced himself to the NEWT administrator. The man checked his name off of the list and looked up.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Dumbledore, my name is Nicholas Flamel," the man with a silvery halo of hair said. "I have your NEWT level test all set up for you."

Albus ignored that part. "Mr. Flamel? Well, it is a pleasure," he said, offering a handshake which was graciously accepted. "I have read much of your work and found it utterly fascinating."

The noted alchemist's eyes twinkled. "Well, my boy, let's see you try _your_ hand at potions. That is what we are here for, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," Albus agreed, turning his attention to the cauldron and ingredients in front of him.

"The instructions are on the sheet. You have forty five minutes. Begin."

Albus brewed the assigned Mopsus Potion with no difficulty. He sprinkled the last of the bone meal in and the potion turned the appropriate shade of lavender. Albus glanced at the time. Ten minutes to spare.

Flamel was staring at the potion in wonder. "Remarkable. I reckon that if I took that potion, I would become a better Seer than Cassandra, and I can assure you, she was excellent! Not that I know that first hand, of course," he added hastily. "Full marks, my boy."

"Thank you, sir," Albus said with a smile. He picked up his pack and turned to go. "Again, it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He turned away.

"Wait!" Flamel called before he had gone three steps. Albus turned back. "You are truly gifted, my boy. Should you ever be wanting a scientific partnership in your career, do look me up. I would much like to work with you. See what other brilliant things are lurking in that brain of yours." He gave a grandfatherly, crinkle-eyed smile.

Albus was bursting with excitement but kept it contained. He gave a polite smile. "I would enjoy that as well, sir. I'll be sure to contact you. Good day."

For Albus, it was quite a good day indeed. Little did he know that it would be one of the last that he could label as such.


End file.
